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In truth, she did not wish her visit to the dead-house to be known, but as Mrs Pansey was cognisant of it, she judged it wiser to neutralise any possible harm that that lady could do by admitting the original statement to be a true one. This honesty would take the wind out of Mrs Pansey's sails, and prevent her from distorting an admitted fact into a fiction of hinted wickedness.
'But, dear Mrs Pansey, you don't think sweet Miss Whichello has anything to do with this very dreadful murder? 'I accuse no one, Daisy. I simply think! 'What do you think? questioned Cargrim, rather sharply. 'I think what I think, was Mrs Pansey's enigmatic response; and she shut her mouth hard.
Into the gaol Mr Cargrim was admitted with certain solemnity by a sour-faced footman whose milk of human kindness had turned acid in the thunderstorms of Mrs Pansey's spite. This engaging Cerberus conducted the chaplain into a large and sepulchral drawing-room in which the good lady and Miss Norsham were partaking of afternoon tea.
But there was a handsome daughter of the invalid who acted as barmaid, and Gabriel was a young and inflammable man; so, putting this and that together, the chaplain thought he discovered the germs of a scandal. Hence his interest in Mrs Pansey's proposed reforms. 'Right! echoed the archidiaconal widow, loudly, 'of course I am right. The Derby Winner is a nest of hawks.
Whether the good lady meant to indicate Miss Whichello by the second name, Mr Cargrim did not stay to inquire, as he was in a hurry to see her himself and find out why she had visited the dead-house. He therefore bowed and smiled himself out of Mrs Pansey's gaol, and walked as rapidly as he was able to the little house in the shadow of the cathedral towers.
'Is Dr Graham young? asked Miss Norsham, in the faint hope that Mrs Pansey's list of inhabitants might include a wealthy bachelor. 'Young? He's sixty, if you call that young, and in his second childhood. An Atheist, too. Tom Payn, Colonel Ingersoll, Viscount Amberly those are his gods, the pagan! I'd burn him on a tar-barrel if I had my way.
Your niece shall marry my son; be assured of that. It is foolish to rake up the past, added the bishop, with a sigh. 'I must rake up the past; I must tell you the truth, said Miss Whichello, in firm tones, 'if only to put a stop to Mrs Pansey's evil tongue. What did she say, bishop? 'Really, really, my dear lady, I 'Bishop, tell me what she said about my sister. I will know.
'From whose account, bishop? 'Mrs Pansey's for one. 'Father! cried Gabriel, 'surely you know that Mrs Pansey's gossip is most unreliable. 'Not in this instance, replied the bishop, promptly. 'Mrs Pansey told me some twenty-six years ago, when Miss Whichello brought her niece to this city, that the child's father was little better than a gaol-bird. 'Did she know him? asked George, sharply.
He had a great idea of managing people by getting them under his thumb, and so far quite deserved Mrs Pansey's epithet of a Jesuit. Of late as Cargrim knew by a steady use of his pale blue eyes the curate had been visiting The Derby Winner, ostensibly on parochial business connected with the ill-health of Mrs Mosk, the landlord's wife.
Nearly all the invitations had been accepted; firstly, because Mrs Pansey made things unpleasant afterwards for such defiant spirits as stayed away; secondly, for the very attractive reason that the meat and drink provided by the hostess were of the best. Thus Mrs Pansey's entertainments were usually the most successful of the Beorminster season.
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